


Roll For Nerdiness

by OriginalWeird



Category: N.E.R.D.S. - Michael Buckley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25310428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalWeird/pseuds/OriginalWeird
Summary: So, maybe in some worlds they aren't actually spies and superheroes and saving the world on a near-daily basis. They're kids. That's a whole lot of responsibility to be placing on their shoulders, and why would they need all the death-defying danger if they could simply...play though it?With the help of a few lucky rolls of the dice, a couple of decades-old instructional pages that they found in a library book, and an extremely reluctant Director, they can and they will.Here's how that turns out.
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

It was tucked in the middle of a book so thick dragging it off the shelf made you stumble backwards. 

Which was precisely what happened to Ruby Peet, which was the whole reason the pages flew open and spat it onto the floor in the first place. 

It was not consistent. 

Plain white, lined, smaller, larger, about two dozen pages stapled together haphazardly. Written in blue, black and red more or less interchangeably. A disorganised mess. 

The work of a kid.

It was intriguing enough that she didn't go for the book (about gut biology, actually, not for a project, because she wanted to read it, stop implying I'm insane you guys it actually is fascinating) first, but scooped it up with hands that were only shaking a little bit. 

It was old. 

The pages were still pressed flat, but the date on the cover (scribbled in blue, with wonky lightning bolts on either side) was a couple decades back. 

Huh. Weird. 

Above the date, there were a collection of names. Different handwriting. Cram-packed together. Below the names, just one word. 

N.E.R.D.S.

The book stayed on the floor. Ruby Peet wandered back over to the table she and her friends had claimed (not that anyone else was likely to use it, or the library at all, during breaks). There wasn't a lot of looking up. It wasn't that they never talked during lunchtimes, but today wasn't a talking day. Today, everyone was actually absorbed in what they were reading. Ruby slid back into her chair and gingerly opened the cover.

If you're reading this, you're probably a nerd.

No offense to you. I'm absolutely a nerd. I've read the book I stashed this in twice. 

If this is for a school project and you'd never dream of reading something like this recreationally, then I guess they've changed the syllabus. This guide isn't for you, but somebody might benefit from it. Please put it back. This took us forever. 

And now I hope you're reading on because we've caught your attention. Hey, potential agent. 

I'm Agent Beanpole.

Yeah. I know. Funny name. Funny boy. 

I'm tall. Plain and simple. Too tall. I get picked on for it. We all get picked on, for whatever reason. So we made up an escape. 

Have you ever wanted to be a spy? A secret agent? Somebody cool, world-saving, destined for greatness?

Oh, boy, have I got a game for you…

The rest of the pages detailed the game. Rules. Character creation. How to play. What you'd need. Examples of missions, sketches. It was fantastic. High in potential. And it looked…well, fun. 

"Guys? Come look at this."

Jackson Jones looked at her over the top of his comic book. 

"Ruby, you were getting a book on guts, I don't…what's that?"

"I said, come look."

Pages were bookmarked. A group of kids leaned over while Ruby tried to explain, pointing out the best bits with an easy, frantic excitement she usually reserved for very important things, like when the cafeteria agreed to start providing options for allergies. 

Jackson, who wanted to be James Bond, was in. Duncan, who loved gadgets, even fictional ones, was in. Matilda, who wanted to beat stuff up, was in. Julio, who was pretty sure this would involve snacks, was in. And Heathcliff, wanting to be extraordinary, was in.

So they started in on What You'd Need.

1\. An adult willing to actually design missions and come up with story (you can do this yourself, but you don't get to play if you know how to overcome the challenges). 

Ms. Brand, the librarian, smiled the second they told her.

"Oh, it sounds great, kids, but I'm afraid I don't know too much about games like that…"

Her accent was faint, but you could still hear it. 

"You could learn!"

"Oh, I'll certainly try. I can absolutely help, but I also happen to know someone who's very good at that sort of thing."

That sounded like a checkmark to them.

2\. Die, decent sets. It's best if you each get your own, but I guess you could try to share. 

"My brother might have some, I think."

Jackson did not think. 

The odds seemed slim.

"Do you think we have enough pocket money to buy them?"

Julio was attempting a handstand as he spoke, so everyone was standing well back. He was also shouting, so they still heard him.

"No, I don't."

Ruby pushed her glasses up her nose, still leaning over the papers. 

"Well, we'll figure it out. We could ask Ms Brand's person?"

"Oh, good idea. Someone write that down."

"Heathcliff, Ruby's the only one taking notes."

"Fine. Ruby, write that down."

Ruby did. 

3\. A character. With a weakness you can turn into a strength. Upgrade it.

The bell rang. Obnoxiously. 

"Well, we'll think about that one. Come on, we'll be late."

"Someone's going to have to carry me or we'll have to stop."

Matilda Choi couldn't walk around the block without stopping to catch her breath. Unfortunate side effects of asthma so extreme she technically should not have been enrolled in a school. 

"I've got Mat. Someone else get our bags."

Duncan Dewey usually ended up carrying her, on the days where she wasn't confined to a wheelchair. Usually, they would have left early so they could wait in the hallways while Mat caught her breath, but the game had been a distraction. 

Julio took all three bags, and a group of kids weren't that late for geography. 

After school that day, Ms. Brand walked around with the school's janitor as he finished mopping the floors.

"Alex, please-"

"Lisa, I am horrible with kids. We've been over this. I don't want to be around them."

"Darling, you work as a middle-school-janitor."

"The job is saved by your working in the same building."

"Well, I know you've missed playing those games. You were devastated when your group disbanded."

"A group of mature, responsible adults taking things seriously-"

"The things were still a game."

"Well, point to you."

"Alex, there are spies."

"…spies, huh."

"Spies. Enemies. Superpower-like upgrades."

"Hmm."

"They'll promise not to screw around too much. I'll get it in writing, and I'll sign up for that cooking course you keep pushing."

"Sold."

"Thank you very much."

She turned, walking away to close up the library. She then looked back over her shoulder.

"Oh, and my sister wants to visit."

"WH-"

A few days later, several children were quite literally bouncing in their seats. Alexander Brand was crammed into a not-quite-large-enough chair, and he was staring at them with the sort of death glare you wouldn't want to meet. 

"If any of you-any of you-misbehave, I will not hesitate to leave this room."

The children nodded seriously. 

The effect was spoiled when the momentum sent Julio flailing off his chair.

Ms. Brand, who had baked a plate of cookies for the occasion, smiled like everything was going perfectly. It was the sort of smile that could have honestly made you believe it was. 

Brand (What's this Mr.? Do I look like a teacher to you?) was reading over their ideas for weaknesses. 

"You, kid. Not having mind control powers is not a weakness."

"What?"

Heathcliff sounded more genuinely shocked and upset than he had any right to be. 

"In fact, none of you have come up with a reasonable weakness. Well, except you."

Ruby was gestured at. She'd written (in neat, small handwriting) exactly two words. They happened to be 'my allergies'. Ruby was currently scratching at her neck like mad, and muttering something about dust. It was, indeed, a reasonable weakness. 

"Okay, we're going to try something else."

Brand said things to the kids in such a way that they sounded like orders, no matter what it was he was actually saying. It was the sort of manner of speaking that tended to have 'near-blind obedience' as a side effect. 

"Instead of coming up with your own weaknesses, your friends will find one for you. If you can actually justify why that weakness could be upgraded into the power you want, it's yours. But I'll be the judge of whether or not something is justified."

"Alex, honey…"

"Okay, not the sole judge. Lisa will help me."

If there was snickering about Lisa, it was quiet and easily ignored. Since Heathcliff had already been singled out, he was focused on first. 

"You monologue a lot."

"What does that mean, Matilda? That I am able to speak at length easily, without need for interruption? That I am truly great at-"

Jackson interjected.

"Guys, giving our buddy here any sort of monologue-related upgrade is the worst thing we could possibly do."

"Jackson!"

"Heathcliff, you know that I am absolutely right."

The boy in question slumped back in his chair. 

"What sort of weakness are we even talking about here? In what department should the weakness be? Physical? Mental? I think I could use more brain capacity-"

Ms. Brand interrupted, before Heathcliff could pick up any more speed.

"Well. I hate to have to be the one that says it, but perhaps the weakness should be what is easily picked on. What makes you a nerd. Subject to bullying."

Ms. Brand spat out the word bullying. She was trying her best when it came to implementing anti-bullying messages in the school, but none of the other teachers could be bothered to care, and the principal was in favour of bullying, in some strange, confusing, character-building way. In her own opinion, she was also a madman, but that hadn't been listened to at the last three PTA meetings and probably wasn't going to start now. 

Her suggestion led to more thinking. Julio suggested something first, raising his hand as if he was currently sitting in a classroom. 

"Maybe his glasses?"

Ruby protested that one.

"That's an example in the book already."

So Heathcliff rejected it.

"I'm not going to be an example. I can come up with something more unique then that. In fact, I could easily come up with-"

Jackson cut him off again, now leaning back nonchalantly, hands behind his head.

"You want to squirrel away some of those monologues for the winter?"

Duncan lit up.

"Squirrel!"

Matilda has zoned out at least two minutes ago, and half-sprang forward like she was a small, overexcited dog. 

"What? Where?"

"No, it's not…I meant for Heathcliff's weakness."

The group stared blankly at him. 

"Like…like teeth. Like Heathcliff's teeth."

Heathcliff attempted to stare at his own teeth. He was probably one of the few people who could actually be successful when doing such a thing, which was exactly the point. 

"I dunno…"

"Well, I do."

Jackson slung an arm around Heathcliff's shoulders. 

"Start thinking of a way to work mind control into your teeth, Choppers."

Heathcliff noted both 'buckteeth' and 'Choppers' on the sheet Brand had just given him and started thinking about how to do exactly that. 

Matilda's weakness was not argued about. She was so weak she couldn't get around the block without getting so short of breath she needed her inhalers, she had to be carried or pushed in a wheelchair on a regular basis, she rarely put down her inhalers, they were all carrying spares of said inhalers on their persons or in their backpacks or both, and they'd all had to help carry out the worst-case scenario at least once-if the inhalers aren't working, take her straight to the nurse, so she can use the more powerful breathing device they'd had to custom-order just for her while the ambulance gets there. 

'Asthma' was scrawled in angry-looking block letters on Matilda's sheet.

Julio was next. After a very heated argument that had to do with him blurting things out, the constant consumption of sugar and how hyper that meant the skinny boy constantly was got brought up. The paper may or may not have been too chocolate-smeared for whatever it was Julio had written to be read, but that just drove the point home more easily. 

Jackson's was also a point of contention. 

"I don't know-two teeth-related weaknesses?"

Ruby was frowning. Matilda was actually standing up in her chair.

"Have you seen his braces lately? They're any sane dentist's worst nightmare! And he had to get a whole row removed! Like a shark! An actual shark!"

Jackson put another finger on his left hand up.

"Point, braces."

"If we have two teeth-related upgrades, we could end up with something so similar we miss out on a different ability, which could ultimately lead to our downfall-we don't want to focus in on the one thing."

"Point, anti-braces."

A finger on his right hand. Duncan shrugged.

"Well, if they come up with vastly different upgrades, it won't be a problem. And they're quite likely to come up with vastly different upgrades, being vastly different people."

"Point, braces. Braces wins-put me down as Braceface. Actually, no, not Braceface-"

"Too late. You've got the name now."

"Dammit."

And then Duncan. They were a few minutes from the bell ringing, and they should technically have been leaving at that very moment, but they were still thinking as they crammed their things into their backpacks. Matilda, waiting for the rest of them, threw her hands up in the air.

"For crying out loud-the boy eats glue, he's a paste-eater. There, done, could someone else get my bag we don't have the time for me wheezing-"

Duncan Dewey sat behind for an extra thirty seconds or so, a grin stretching across his face. He wasn't even slightly annoyed with the bluntness-Matilda was fairly blunt, it was just how she was. In fact, as he slung her bag over his shoulder along with his own, he was thinking about how perfectly he'd just been set up for being Spiderman. 

Awesome. 

As Brand locked the janitor's closet, a good deal later, he was considering the chosen upgrades. And what sort of storyline he could throw at a bunch of kid spies. 

Something interesting and challenging, certainly. He wasn't going to lower the difficultly level, not even for a bunch of kids. 

Speaking of difficult, his wife's sister and his niece were visiting. Not today, necessarily, but at some near point. He hated that-the not knowing exactly when and what to be prepared for. Lisa had wanted to start baking this morning, but he'd talked her away from it with a good deal of pointing out that Carol was notoriously disorganised and was also actually constantly moving around the country so Mindy could be in a different beauty pageant each week, as well as home-schooling his niece in between tangerine-orange spray tans. If Carol heard about a beauty contest, she'd be going away from their one-bedroom apartment in an instant. 

He was a little concerned about the home-schooling, actually. He wasn't totally sure that Mindy was at the right academic level for a girl her age, but she did know more styles of martial arts than he did. 

He brought this up with his wife on the drive home. She shrugged, somewhat non-commitally, and changed the subject. He would have pressed further, but the new subject was the cooking classes she'd agreed to sign up for, so he didn't. 

When they stopped outside their apartment building, they were greeted with the vehicle that took his sister-in-law and niece from pageant to pageant. Both were already standing by the side of it, and Carol waved-too enthusiastically-and smiled-too widely. Mindy had a backpack on and was holding a wheelie suitcase. 

He was getting a bad feeling. 

Lisa clambered out-oh, I told you I should have started baking this morning-and he followed her more slowly, his cane tapping on the sidewalk.

The two sisters hugged, and then Carol was off, talking too fast.

"Ah-well-I-won't-keep-you-can't-stay-long-but-I'm-afraid-Mindy-is-going-through-a-rebellious-phase-and-isn't-interested-in-pageants-at-the-moment-she-wants-to-be-an-assassain-oh-can-you-imagine-it-so-I-bought-a-dog-very-pretty-purebred-to-do-her-job-until-she-comes-around-and-until-that-point-I'm-leaving-her-with-you-dreafully-sorry-about-the-short-notice-I'm-glad-you-both-look-well-be-good-for-your-aunt-and-uncle-I'll-see-you-all-in-about-a-month-goodbye!"

Quite literally off. Gone. Speeding away. His sister-in-law was a dangerous driver if ever he'd seen one. And his twelve-year-old niece was still standing there, as calm as anything. 

Lisa Brand hugged her niece.

"Well, that sure is something, huh, my little Hyena?"

Could he make a twelve-year-old sleep on his couch? He didn't even like kids. A month? Had she said a month?'

"Well, I guess. Like Mom said-I want to be an assassin. I had planned on going it alone, though. Like, finding a hotel."

This was neglectful. This was bad parenting. What if they refused to take care of her?

"Well. Assassin ambitions might be a little bit further in the future. Can I help you with your suitcase?"

Not that they were going to. They wouldn't do that. That would just be plain cruel. He wasn't a plain cruel sort of a person.

"No thanks, Aunt Lisa. Is Uncle Alex okay?"

"I expect he's wondering if he'll be able to make you sleep on the couch."

"It's gotta be better than the bunks in the pageant-train."

"Then we'll tell him once he snaps out of it. Come on. You can help me make cookies once we get upstairs."

"Sounds like a plan."

Brand did follow them. He wasn't that far behind. But he was wondering, now that the couch thing had been at least temporarily resolved, what exactly they were going to do with Mindy Beauchamp during the day, while they were at work. And whether or not this was the sort of thing you went to the authorities about. 

And, okay, he was still mentally planning out missions. 

But only a little bit. 

The next day, Mindy Beauchamp trailed behind her aunt, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She was not enrolled in this middle school, and she'd have to take tests if she wanted back in public schooling system anyway, but both Aunt Lisa and Uncle Alex worked here and everything was supposed to be continuing as normally as possible under the current circumstances so she was supposed to sit in the library and work on the things she'd brought until the home bell. 

Or later. Teachers didn't leave at the same time as students, after all. And she wasn't even a student.

Absolutely no-one came into the library for the first part of the day. Her Aunt reshelved books and organised things and let Mindy pick a radio station. She got through half a maths worksheet and a seriously impressive doodle of herself beating up a small army of goons. Then the first break-bell rang and a cluster of nerdy-looking kids her age, maybe a little younger, ran into the library. She eyed them over the top of a book she'd just found about weapons. 

They eyed her right back. 

Then her uncle walked in, looking for all the world like he was anticipating some kind of horrible torture, then unleased a bag of dice onto the table where the kids were sitting. 

Mindy turned the radio right down as her aunt went over with him. She wanted to know what was going on.

"We're going to go through what you've come up with for upgrades. If we don't think they're good enough, you'll have to think of something else. Then you can roll for your traits."

Uncle Alex leaned back. The kid sitting to his left-glasses and red hair and a damn impressive set of buckteeth-seemed to be defacto first.

"I'm going to have mind control."

There was a brief yell of disapproval. Uncle Alex stared at the kids until they'd stopped. Buckteeth continued, undeterred.

"People's eyes are drawn to my teeth when they look at my face, because the teeth are large and distracting. When they stare at my teeth, they will be drawn in and unable to resist. It is through this effect that I will be able to hypnotise all those who gaze upon my teeth, and by extension, my face, which will lead to-"

"Heathcliff, you're a spy, not an evil genius."

The kid stopped talking, but he seemed to have latched on to the statement. Uncle Alex looked like he was going to disapprove, but Aunt Lisa looked at him as if she would have disapproved of the disapproval, so he just sighed.

"Sure. You've got your mind control. Mark it down and pick a die. Braceface?"

"I thought I said I didn't want to be Braceface!"

Huh.

This kid put too much gel in his blonde hair, and he had some of the worst braces she'd ever seen. He dressed normally, though, not like colours had exploded on him (certain others were hurting her eyes) and he honestly still had a decent smile, despite the braces. 

He'd also just glanced up at her. Like he cared what she thought about him being Braceface.

Yeah, huh. Interesting.

"I want…gadgets. I want the metal in my mouth to be able to rearrange itself into a bunch of different stuff, from cars to like…spidery legs and a whole bunch of other things."

Uncle Alex nodded. Mindy noted that he did look sort of impressed, but in the way Uncle Alex looked impressed (very, very subtly). 

The first girl who got called on was small and Asian and looked incredibly fragile and incredibly dangerous all at once. She had a unibrow Mindy could see from the librarian's desk and when she spoke, it was punctuated with wheezing. 

Mindy would have loved to give said girl a makeover, but that wasn't the point.

"I don't know. Exactly. But I want to fly."

The rest of them tried to help. 

"Your wheezing could like…lift you off the ground?"

"Julio, that's weird."

"You could be like, float perpetually and come back down when you wheezed?"

"Worse!"

"You could have rocket launchers in your inhalers."

The boy who made this suggestion-short and chubby with dark skin and bad fashion sense- was grinned widely at. It was a good suggestion, but Mindy wasn't totally sure how good. She was getting a certain vibe from said grin. 

"That one. I want that."

"Well. You've got it."

The girl grinned again.

The boy with the bad fashion sense got his turn next.

"I want to stick to walls. And shoot glue out of my hands."

"And next."

"I'm good?"

"Sure. Next."

"Okay, so it's sort of like the Hulk-"

Small girl squinted at the boy now talking, who was jittery and shaking his seat around in a way that was probably going to throw him out of it.

"…are you suggesting that you power up from eating snacks?"

Glue-boy added on to it.

"Are you suggesting that you power up from eating snacks in order to be able to eat more snacks?"

"Well, not exactly."

The jitterbug boy was now screwing around with a pencil.

"I'm suggesting that my excess energy gets converted. Into super strength and super speed."

"…I'm letting you have this one, kid, but if it is an excuse to eat more snacks-"

"I promise it's not maybe."

"And last one…"

A girl with blonde hair that poofed into pigtails and a very thick pair of glasses cleared her throat.

"I want to be allergic to a wide variety of useful things. Everything from near-death situations to getting crushed to lies to emotions."

"If I let you have that upgrade, I want a complete list of allergies. You can't just make new ones up whenever you feel like it."

"I thought you might say that. Here's my list. I've also included the symptoms of each."

Two or three sheets of lined paper-Mindy couldn't see, properly-were handed over. Uncle Alex looked…genuinely, openly impressed. Dice clattered on the table, and he started in on something he was calling a mission briefing, which she'd seen Aunt Lisa helping him write out at the kitchen table yesterday evening. It was, in his own words, more of an introduction to the world created than the mission briefings they'd have in the future, but that didn't mean it couldn't be referred to as a mission briefing. He then had them roll for something mysterious. 

Blond boy's was lowest. Blonde girl's was the highest.

Before the red-headed boy got his chance to roll, Mindy stood up. The chair clattered into a stack of books behind it, and she saw her Aunt Lisa wince as they crashed noisily to the ground. She continued as if it hadn't happened, as calm as she could get herself to be.

"I want to play."

And the words were louder than the crash had been in the new, rare silence in the middle school library.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why not?"

Ms. Brand waved the girl over, and she walked out from behind the desk as if she hadn't really expected to get this far. She stood next to the table, shifting her weight between her feet, leaning on her toes as if she was wearing a pair of invisible high heels. The librarian introduced her, still all smiles and sunshine.

"This is Mindy, my niece. She's staying with us for a while."

She went into no further detail and Mindy ended up in the seat next to her aunt. She was being stared at and ignored simultaneously. Alexander Brand cleared his throat pointedly. 

"So, Mindy, you have any ideas about a character?"

"I want to be a villain. An assassin."

She almost spat it out. Ms. Brand nodded as if she expected it, and Brand, to his credit, only raised one eyebrow. Jackson raised both of his and went through his bag, looking for something.

"I made an assassin sheet!"

It was crumpled and one corner was completely torn off, but Mindy nodded at it anyway, then passed it to Brand. Julio flopped over at least half the table, stretching, trying to see the sheet. He didn't quite get there, so he turned back to Jackson.

"Why'd you make an assassin?"

Jackson squirmed a little bit as his friends turned their stares in his direction.

"Assassins are totally cool, that's why."

Heathcliff joined in, scribbling something on his sheet.

"Yeah, but it's a lot of effort. Did you specifically make a girl assassin? About our age?"

"Uhm, yeah. Is something…"

Matilda slammed one of her fists into the table. It wasn't as loud as it should have been, not as loud as she'd intended it to be, but it worked okay.

"You made yourself a fake assassin girlfriend!"

Mindy's head whipped around. Jackson turned sort of vermillion. 

"No! I didn't! I totally didn't! That's not it!"

Too late. A group of not-particularly-mature kids were now snickering at him. Jackson sank down in his seat. The totally cool girl had one eyebrow raised, and she was staring right at him, and she thought he wanted her to be his fake assassin girlfriend, which, okay, would have been sort of alright with him, but no, that wasn't the point, he didn't want…

He wanted to be cool. And aloof. James Bond-like. Effortlessly charming. But his cool had sunk down with him and now they were both kinda stuck, half-wedged under the stupid table. He should have kept the sheet in his bag. Ms. Brand cleared her throat.

"Well, Mindy, I suppose you'll want to know the names of the rest of the players?" 

Jackson was still stuck. Dammit. Dammit. 

He was tugged out by the back of his shirt. She was introduced to them, and she didn't say a word, just sort of looked-faster, talk faster, because Brand was looking pointedly at his watch. 

Too late. There went the bell.

Sheets-now with scribbled backstories and abilities and everything else that might possibly be necessary-were handed back over as a bell screamed at them. Matilda was picked up again, as someone grabbed their bags, and they could not be late, not even just barely late, not two days in a row. And they were gone. 

Mindy sat back behind the desk and turned the classic rock station back up. She glanced at the worksheet she was supposed to be doing for all of three seconds before she turned her attention to the character sheet. She pulled out a pencil and, pressing slightly too hard, began making the unnamed assassin her own. That was the first order of business, actually, the unnamed bit. 

What would her alias be? If she was an assassin? 

"Hyena! Could you come help me with these?"

A pencil scratched at lightning speed. 

"Yep! Wow, Aunt Lisa, you're pretty strong-"

THE HYENA

Jackson Jones was pretty sure Mindy was never going to think he was anything other than an idiot. About as big of an idiot as their teacher, who was currently telling them about his summer vacation. He was glad he'd ended up with his friends, in this class, even though the principal almost split them up this year, because he was pretty sure school would suck way more without them. Molly Choi marched into the office and yelled about them knowing what to do in case of a Matilda-related emergency and then teachers stopped trying to separate them. It was sort of impressive, honestly. He overheard it, sitting and waiting for his dad to pick him up for a dentist's appointment.

He pulled at one of the elastics on his braces. Stupid dentist's appointments. 

So it turned out normal kids didn't have multiple layers of teeth. He'd had too many teeth. Like a shark. Whatever. It wasn't like he'd ever been popular. There had been almosts, but he'd chosen a bunch of nerds for friends, in the immortal words of Brett Bealer, and there went that chance. 

He wasn't totally sure if he'd like being popular. From what he'd seen, it required too much effort. And, on the totally excellent upside, his friends were awesome.

But being a nerd didn't mean you did well in school, necessarily. Especially not when you got taught by some of the most incompetent teachers known to man. 

They were on to the fake tan story. He'd heard it fourteen times this year.

They should fire this guy. He'd be flunking out of school if his friends didn't help him with his homework.

He had not made a girl assassin to be his fake girlfriend. Assassins were just cool. He'd thought they should have villains their own age, too, if they were going to be kid spies. Spy-superheroes. Cool guys. Young James Bonds. Was there a female James Bond equivalent for Ruby and Matilda?

How many James Bond movies had he actually seen? Not all of them. Maybe he should watch more James Bond movies. As preparation. He could have all his friends around for it! James Bond marathon. He'd bring that up after class.

Or during class. Not like he'd be talking over anything important. 

But Ruby and Heathcliff would probably look at him like he was. Okay, after class. Just had to sit through another story about…what was it now? Shopping online.

Boy, he hoped there wasn't going to be a test on this.

Alexander Brand sat in the janitor's closet, scribbling in a notebook. Okay. The first storyline…based on roles…and he could arrange everything like this…he only really needed one character as a newcomer, in order to explain everything. And that would be…dammit, he hadn't gotten something there. Maybe tonight he'd get take-out instead of cooking so he had more time to plan this all out. Did Mindy not like any particular type of fast food? He'd just let his niece pick. Easily solved.

Mindy wanted to be a villain. He could talk more about that to her at home. And he had a decent idea for a first villain, one he'd written up a while back but hadn't gotten to do anything with. Mindy could be the hired assassin for this guy, and he'd write up separate missions for her that she could play while the rest of those kids were in class or they were all at home. 

How long was Mindy here for? Should he actually be looking into enrolling her in the public schooling system?

He needed a character for himself. And a character for Lisa? Yes, that was all good. They probably…oh, he himself had to be a newcomer for this storyline to work. So they wouldn't be married. 

He couldn't figure out a way around that. Darn.

Miss Deprankova, then? 

"Oh, Alex, no."

"Why not?"

He was holding a ladder for his wife as she finished reshelving the top row of books, occasionally passing her books off the cart. Technically, this wasn't part of his job, but it was helpful and he could vacuum the floors in here tomorrow instead.

"I'm not making them say Deprankova every time they talk to me."

"It was your maiden name. I'm going to just use Brand."

"Yes, considerably easier to pronounce."

"What would you go by, then?"

"Oh, give me one minute. I don't come up with fake last names often."

Mindy looked up from a lower row, helping to put books back, sitting not far from her aunt and uncle.

"Tuesday?"

"Where did that come from?"

"A pageant judge I had once. She had the craziest eyebrows, she looked like…"

Mindy attempted to imitate the eyebrows. She was unsuccessful, but good at capturing the general spirit. 

"I'll put it on the shortlist, Mindy."

"I have more ideas! What about Holiday?"

"Lisa Holiday…you can write that down."

Brand handed another book up.

"You've chosen?"

"Miss Holiday, Alex. On whatever line character names go on. You're certain the characters can't be married?"

"I've told you, Lisa, for this storyline…"

"I'm going to get the characters married, then."

Lisa Brand nodded firmly to herself from the top of a ladder that was, at present, being held by her husband. The man in question looked up at her with a fond sort of tiredness.

"Honey…"

"I'll roll for it. Or however that works."

"Alright then."

Mindy, who had pulled a handful of spy novels off the cart and been briefly occupied with reading the back-cover summaries, looked back up. 

"Hey, Aunt Lisa, you could have a Russian secret identity or something! You know, called…what's your middle name again?"

"Same as yours, dear. It's a family name."

"Viktoriya Deprankova, Russian spy who came undercover to the American spy organisations and stayed because she liked it better and fell in love with grumpy Uncle Alex."

Lisa Brand laughed, which wasn't the wisest thing to do while you balanced at the top of a ladder. She glanced down at her husband.

"Could you write that part down too?"

"I'm not sure about that."

"You don't have to do anything with it. It doesn't have to matter at all. I expect Lisa Holiday has almost forgotten about being Viktoriya Deprankova. She probably does like it better, especially if you're there."

"If you say so."

"There, last one."

Lisa climbed back down the ladder and went to get her handbag. Brand cleared his throat, letting go of the ladder.

"Mindy, did you have a favourite type of fast food?"

The girl looked genuinely taken aback.

"What?"

"I was thinking of just getting fast food for dinner today, and as you're our guest, I thought I'd let you choose."

"Uncle Alex, I'm not allowed to have fast food."

Brand had a bad feeling about this.

"Why not?"

"Pageant queens don't eat fast food. Pageant queens don't eat sugar or fattening foods. It will make them balloon up like they're full of useless hot air. If you want a crown and a sash, you will stick to the diet and exercise regiment I have drawn up for you."

It sounded far too practised. 

"Is that something your mother says?"

"Yep, all the time. It's one of her favourites. She'd be really mad at me for having cereal for breakfast this morning, instead of a smoothie or something. And for skipping both the runs I have to do. And for eating so much for lunch. And not doing any of the other workouts. And if she knew I didn't eat a salad or one of the approved dinners, she'd totally flip. She'd be so mad about the cookies we had yesterday. Do you think the dog has a diet and exercise routine?"

"I…I don't know. We'll just have to stick to classic cheeseburgers, Mindy."

Mindy Beauchamp's mother had dropped her off with her aunt and uncle without even checking if they could take care of her for a month. Or more, based on her previous flippancy with schedules. Mindy Beauchamp's mother had replaced her with a dog. 

Alexander Brand was not returning his niece to Carol Beauchamp. 

He'd talk more about all that with his wife later. 

"Uncle Alex? I don't want to start up all the other stuff Mom made me do, but do you think we could find a martial arts place somewhere?"

"Absolutely. That would be just fine."


End file.
